Path of Thorns
by kaly
Summary: Everyone is left to wait and worry when Charlie is injured. First in a series, Brothers' Bond, about Ron and Charlie.


Title: Path of Thorns   
Author: kaly  
Rating: K   
Spoilers: vague spoilers for the various books.  
Series: Brothers' Bond - #1  
Warnings: angst   
Timeframe: Fifth year   
Summary: Everyone is left to wait and worry when Charlie is injured. 

Feedback: if you're so inclined.

Notes: The first story in a series revolving around Ron and Charlie. I'm not sure why I'm interested in these two specifically, but I am. And Harry's a major player in many of them as well. I'm working with the idea that Charlie is ten years older than Ron. The series was written prior to the release of OotP and HBP, it veers away from canon after GoF.

Disclaimer: JKR. Scholastic. WB. They have the say and the bucks, not me.

Path of Thorns

Harry and Ron sat side by side, each doing their best to look alert as Snape droned on. He was going on about the intricacies of mixing a potion to counter the Loose Tongue curse -- a nasty little spell that caused the victim to tell everything they knew.

The lesson had been going on for nearly half an hour when the large door at the rear of the classroom swung open. Harry's head jerked up at the unexpected interruption; suddenly awake. Beside him, he saw Ron do the same. Harry was less surprised when he realized that it was Professor McGonagall that had dared interrupt Snape's lesson.

"Yes, Professor?" Drolly spoken, as if he didn't particularly care.

McGonagall held her hands together. If she were anyone else, Harry would have said she was wringing her hands. "I need to speak with Mr. Weasley, please."

Harry's attention quickly turned from the head of their house to his best friend. Ron tore his eyes away from McGonagall to shrug at Harry's questioning glance. Snape sighed as he turned a sharp eye toward Harry and Ron's table. Harry thought he heard Snape mutter, "Weasley. Why am I not surprised?" within the sigh, but wasn't certain.

"Yes, yes. Doubtful he was paying attention anyway," Snape did reply -- out loud. There was a rush of whispering from the students, which Snape silenced with a glare directed at all of them. Even the Slytherins.

When Ron stood, papers left on the desk, McGonagall shook her head. "No, bring your things, Mr. Weasley."

At that Ron did turn and look once more at Harry. There was a worried look in Ron's green eyes and Harry knew it was mirrored in his own. Something must have happened for their teacher to pull Ron out of class so suddenly.

It took only a moment for Ron push his papers, quills and book into his worn satchel. With one last glance, he met the elder witch at the door and was gone. Once the door was closed behind them, and the classroom again fell under the heavy dark that seemed to permeate it, Snape continued.

"Now. Who can tell me what plant I was describing before the interruption?"

Harry wasn't surprised when Hermione's hand that shot into the air, even as she gave him a questioning look of her own.

The potions lecture had continued for over an hour after Ron had mysteriously left. That left Harry, and no doubt Hermione, to wait and worry at what might have happened. The second Snape saw fit to dismiss them each grabbed their supplies and hastily stowed them before running from the classroom.

They went directly to Gryffendor Tower, passing the fat lady with barely a glance to say the password, _tiddlywinks_, in their rush. The common room was busy; students from the various years all seemed to have finished classes at the same time. There was one corner, though -- tucked away into the shadows, an ideal spot for hiding among a crowd -- that was still.

Harry elbowed Hermione, who had been looking around the room, and pointed toward it. "There's Ron," he said, his voice a whisper, even though he knew if he were to speak normally the sound wouldn't carry to Ron. "And that's Fred and George with him. They look almost... subdued."

Hermione stared for a moment, her head tilted to the side. "What's happened?" She looked at Harry. "I wonder if Professor McGonagall pulled all of three of them from class?"

"I don't know..." Harry said, as much to himself as Hermione.

They watched for several moments more as the three Weasleys sat close together in silence. Finally Hermione asked, almost hesitantly, "Should we go over?"

Harry looked away from Ron and his brothers long enough to shrug. "Yeah. I guess so."

They were almost to the recessed chairs before Harry could really see Ron's face. He stopped in mid-step at the stricken expression there. Sharing a glance with Hermione, he saw the concern on her face and knew it to be mirrored on his own. Something _had _happened.

Something bad.

Before either Harry or Hermione had worked up the nerve to break the silence, wary of startling the three boys, Ron looked up. His gaze moved between the two of them before settling on Harry for a long moment. It was all Harry could do not to flinch at the pain he saw in the familiar green eyes.

"Ron?" he asked, barely a whisper. The words came unbidden -- he hadn't intended to speak. Hermione looked at him, startled, but Ron simply continued to stare. Ron's mouth opened, closed and opened again, but there were no words.

He was saved from answering, if he had been so inclined, when a blur of red hair rushed between himself and Hermione. Blinking, noticing Hermione pull strands of hair away from her face, Harry recognized Ginny. She had pushed in between Ron and Fred, wrapping her arms around Fred's waist.

Fred had his arm around Ginny's shoulders and Harry heard him whisper something to her that he couldn't hear. He did understand when Ginny looked at her brothers, with tears in her eyes and asked, "Why do we have to wait here?"

Harry pulled his gaze away from Ginny when Fred replied. "Mum and Dad are going, Gin. Bill, too."

"But why can't we?"

It was George who answered her. "We'd just be in the way there."

Ginny looked at the twin, her eyes stubborn. "I want to see Charlie."

"You will." Ron put a hand on her arm, staring off into nothing even as he spoke the quiet words. Harry couldn't help but think he looked far older than fifteen years old.

"Just not right now," George finished with a glance at Ron.

"Promise?" she asked in very small voice.

Harry couldn't help but see the way Ron looked to George. It was the same way that Ginny was looking at Ron. They were both waiting for the older sibling to say the right thing to make it better. Harry could see the trust on Ron's face, the desperation mixed in with the pain.

"Yeah, Ginny," George finally said. "I promise." It must have been enough, because she drew back up against Fred, quiet.

Harry and Hermione, however, were left to wonder at what had happened. They were standing just a step or two away, but they might as well have been on the other side of the lake. Feeling Hermione's eyes on him, Harry turned. When she tilted her head, indicating they go back across the room, he nodded in agreement.

With a last glance at Ron, Harry followed Hermione to one of the large tables that dotted the room. The longer Ron remained quiet, the more concerned Harry became. He had seen the fear in Ron's eyes. And he knew Ron was clinging as tightly to George's words as Ginny was.

Harry and Hermione tried to busy themselves with homework, but he could tell that this was one of the rare occasions when she found little escape in it. It was some time after they had left Ron and his siblings when Hermione put her quill down. Harry heard her sigh as she looked over at Ron.

"They're still just sitting there."

Nodding, Harry pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "I know."

He noticed Hermione fiddling with the hem of her sleeve and waited for her to decide what she wanted to say. "Should we go back over there?"

"I want to," Harry admitted. "I'm just not sure if we should."

"Yeah." Hermione sighed, turning back to her books.

Not a minute later Harry was surprised to see Ron stand and walk hurriedly toward the staircase. He nudged Hermione's hand with his own, gesturing toward Ron's retreating back with a tilt of his head.

In unspoken agreement they stood, books and best intentions forgotten. They walked slowly over to where Fred, George and Ginny remained. When George looked at them it was with no sign of his usual humor.

"It's Charlie," he said quietly, his gaze finding Fred's.

It was Fred who continued. "There was an accident. Mum and Dad have gone to Romania."

Finding his voice, Harry asked, "Is he...? Will he...?"

George shrugged. "We don't know."

Harry could almost feel Hermione fidgeting beside him. He sympathized. He knew she must want to do something as badly as he did.

"Ron?" Hermione asked.

Fred indicated the stairs with a jerk of his chin. "Went to his room. Wanted to be alone. Sometimes we just have to let him go off on his own. Usually it's Charlie that can..." Fred's voice trailed off, his expression softening.

Harry felt a pull toward the stairs. Something inside him was insisting that being alone was the _last _thing Ron needed. But he was torn -- should respect his friend's wishes? His debate only lasted a few seconds before he glanced over at Hermione.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. Harry found himself once again surprised at the way the three of them so often could tell what the others were thinking. He glanced back at the table where their books lay and then at the remaining Weasleys. Hermione whispered, "I'll take care of them." _You take care of Ron_ seemed to hang in the air, unspoken.

Relief washed over Harry. Perhaps his instincts weren't wrong. He gave Hermione a small smile before hurrying up the stairs after Ron. Behind him he heard Hermione say, "He just wants to check on Ron. Make sure he's all right."

However Harry doubted Ron was anywhere near all right.

When Harry reached the closed door to the fifth year boys' dorm there was wasn't any light coming from under it. Harry paused with his hand not quite touching the door's surface. After a moment's indecision he knocked softly before pushing it open.

The room would have been completely dark, if not for the last light of day coming in the large window on the far wall. Harry blinked, trying to see through the encroaching darkness and found Ron sitting on the windowsill, knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped his legs. He looked... lost.

Harry closed the door behind him and stood, just inside the room, waiting for Ron to notice him. The last thing he wanted to do was startle him. After several seconds Harry moved forward, making a large arc around the room until he reached Ron's side.

It was then Ron moved, jumping a bit, as he turned wide eyes to Harry. Ron covered his face with his hands, scrubbing roughly at his cheeks, but not before Harry was able to see the tears that covered them.

"Yeah, Harry?" Ron asked in a shaky voice once he had lowered his hands.

There was just enough room for Harry to sit facing Ron with their feet not quite touching. He waited until he was sitting, his posture mirroring his friend's, before speaking. "Tell me?" he asked quietly, knowing Ron would understand.

He watched closely as Ron's throat moved convulsively. It took several tries before Ron managed to move his lips and have any sound come out. He stared out the window, not looking at Harry as he said, "Charlie's hurt."

Ron looked at him then, out of the corner of his eyes. Harry nodded silently, encouraging him to continue. Ron took a shaky breath and his hands fidgeted. "Mum and Dad didn't send many details. At least not that McGonagall shared. I don't think they wanted to scare us. But I overheard a little..."

Harry could tell there was more Ron wanted to say, but as the silence dragged on he began to doubt Ron would share.

"Another wizard. Someone new. He was working with one of the dragons. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be, I don't know." Ron shook his head, breath shuddering in his chest. "I don't know what happened. Just that something went wrong." His voice caught. "Charlie saved him."

Harry could see fresh tears in Ron's eyes. He reached out his hand and laid it on Ron's before he even realized what he was doing. Ron met his eyes then and Harry thought he saw the faintest flicker of gratitude before it was blinked away.

"And Charlie?" Harry managed to ask, having to force the words from his throat. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.  
Ron leaned his head against the windowpane. "He was hurt. Badly, from how McGonagall talked."

"I'm sorry."

Ron nodded shortly and Harry heard the catch in his breath. Breathing through clenched teeth, Ron squeezed his eyes shut just as a tear broke free. Harry gripped Ron's fingers more tightly for a moment, wanting to reassure him somehow, but lacking the words. He lost track of how long they sat there, curled up in the large picture window, before Ron finally broke the silence.

"Charlie came home for the holiday this year, did I tell you?"

Harry nodded, almost smiling. In the weeks just prior to Christmas it was all Ron could talk about whenever he mentioned the break. It had been one of the rare years the elder Weasley had been able to leave Romania and spend the holidays with his family.

Ron looked outside for a long moment before saying anything else. "I bet I didn't tell you what happened right before he left, did I?"

Harry thought for a moment. Ron hadn't, actually. His normally talkative friend had been oddly quiet about how things had gone while he was away for the vacation. His curiosity piqued, he replied, "No... You didn't."

"We had a fight, Charlie and me." Ron almost laughed, but it was more air than sound. "Silly really."

Harry doubted it was so silly, if Ron had never mentioned it before. He didn't have to say anything, though, because Ron continued on as if he weren't expecting an answer.

"He's always been something of a mother hen, honestly." And as if he realized the import of what he had said, considering the present situation, Ron went quiet. He swallowed audibly, staring out into the night. When he found his voice, he went on. "I wanted to do something stupid. He didn't want me to do it."

Harry watched as Ron fought within himself. He could see the struggle that went on against the memories and hated that there was nothing he could do but sit there and watch.

"He stopped me. Probably a good thing, now that I think about it. That old broom of Bill's was never meant to fly stunts on. I was so angry at the time, though. All I could see was Charlie treating me like a kid." Laughing, although it was a cold sound, Ron shook his head. "Fitting. I was acting like one."

Almost frightened, Harry asked, "What happened."

Ron turned tortured eyes on Harry, the tears were absent but the pain had increased ten-fold. "I told him that I didn't need him hanging all over me anymore. That I wasn't a baby. That he should just go back to Romania with his precious dragons. Where he belonged."

"Oh, Ron."

"I couldn't see straight," Ron said, as if Harry hadn't spoken. "I knew what I was saying. I knew I was hurting him and for that moment I reveled in it." Harry knew how much Ron was truly hurting when he felt his friend squeeze his friend in return, although he wondered if Ron realized he was doing it. "I hated it later. Every time Charlie looked at me after that. Whenever I would run into him he looked so sad. He had just wanted to help me, but I refused to take it back."

Harry couldn't believe Ron had been silent for so long about what had happened. He wanted to say something -- anything -- to make his friend feel better but all words failed. All he could do was be there, trying to be a friend if Ron would let him. He heard Ron sniffle and saw that the tears had returned. Only this time they were falling freely down Ron's cheeks.

"I didn't say goodbye, Harry. I let him leave without a word."

Ron's eyes were drooping by the time the other boys in their year began to filter into the room. It wasn't hard to see how exhausted Ron was and he started when Harry tugged on his arm. Ron calmed when he saw that it was Harry beside him. Tilting his head toward Ron's bed, Harry whispered, "Why don't you try to sleep?"

"I'm not sure I can," Ron replied in a rough voice. But Harry could see that Ron's hesitance was more emotional than physical. His friend looked dead on his feet.

Putting a hand under Ron's elbow, Harry nodded. "It'll be okay, Ron." Seeing the stricken look in Ron's eyes, Harry feared he had said the wrong thing. "Ron..."

The other boy nodded, refusing to meet Harry's gaze. "Thanks, Harry." He shook off the offered hand and crossed the room to his bed, pulling back the curtains. As if on autopilot, Ron reached into the small chest by his bed and pulled out the well-worn pajamas that lay inside. He turned then, retreating into the bathroom that the boys shared and closed the door behind him.

Harry had yet to move when Ron opened the door, robes in hand, and crossed once more to his bed. The redhead did spare Harry one last glance as he climbed into bed, right before pulling the heavy curtains closed.

"Thanks," he repeated, his voice less guarded than before.

Harry nodded, no less concerned. "You're welcome." He watched the curtains fall closed and the springs gave a small protest as Ron got settled.

As he turned toward his own bed, Harry noticed Neville giving him an odd look. Meeting his eyes, Harry shook his head but didn't speak. Neville seemed to understand, nodding before he let the curtains fall closed.

After changing Harry was just about to retreat to bed himself when something drew him to where Ron lay sleeping. Only a single candle was still burning in the dormitory room, which made it difficult to see. Still, he could see the curtains surrounding Ron's bed moving.

Harry held his breath. Listening closely, he hoped to hear if Ron was actually asleep. He realized he was wrong when Ron groaned. Standing still, almost afraid to move, Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from where Ron was hidden. It was the sound of a cry, albeit a small one, that pulled Harry from that spot. The cry was followed by another, more frantic one. Ron's voice was almost begging. "No! Charlie!"

Harry had just reached the side of the bed when he realized he could hear Ron fighting against the heavy covers. He pulled the curtains back, and found Ron tangled in the sheets. Sweat covered his forehead and there was a grimace of pain on his face.

"Ron?" Harry asked quietly, hoping not to startle him.

The call had little effect. He was as tangled in his dreams as much as the covers. Harry wasn't sure if he should wake him or not, but couldn't bear to watch his friend suffer. He reached out, shaking Ron's shoulder.

He tried again. "Ron, wake up."

Ron awoke with a gasp, sitting up so suddenly he knocked Harry backwards onto the floor. Propped up on his elbows, chest heaving for breath, Ron looked around the room frantically.

"Charlie?" he asked in a very small voice.

Remaining on the floor, Harry rubbed a sore elbow and coughed softly. He'd had the wind knocked out of him when he fell. Hearing another noise behind them, Harry turned to find Neville again looking at them curiously, just his head visible through the curtains. A quick glance revealed that Ron hadn't noticed the onlooker.

Shaking his head, Harry whispered, "Not now, Neville." He didn't mean to be short, but the last things Ron needed were inquiring eyes and nosy questions. Neville must have understood, once again he disappeared behind his curtains.

Turning to Ron, Harry moved so that he was kneeling next to him. "Ron?" he asked as loudly as he dared. His question caused wild eyes to look at him. Ron was a sight, hair sticking in all directions, tears streaking his flushed face.

"Harry?"

"I'm here. You're okay." Ron's eyes darted from side to side. "We're in the dorm."

"Charlie?"

Harry looked at Ron sadly, hating what he could so easily read in Ron's eyes. "We don't know yet."

Ron continued to stare at Harry with pleading eyes. "Not dead?"

"No. He's not."

Harry could only hope he wouldn't be made a liar.

It wasn't long before it became clear that sleep was the last thing on Ron's mind. Harry went back to his own bed, but continued to watch his friend. Ron, for his part, lay absolutely still, staring at the ceiling.

Harry thought for a bit and finally came up with a plan. He didn't want to risk being caught by Filch, but knew they could at least go down to the common room with little trouble. It was also a safe bet that the room would be deserted.

He crossed the space over to Ron's bed quickly. When Ron looked at him, Harry pointed over his shoulder, toward the door. "Let's go downstairs," he whispered, hoping the others were asleep or at least willing to ignore them. When Ron looked doubtful, Harry almost relented. Almost. "It has to be better than staring at the ceiling, right?"

He wasn't sure Ron agreed, but the other boy did push the covers back. "What are we going to do there?"

Harry shrugged. "Talk?"

The look on Ron's face would have been funny any other time. He clearly thought Harry had finally lost a marble or two but he trusted him anyway.

They were quiet on the stairs, especially walking by the other years' rooms. When they reached the common room Harry found that his guess had been correct. They were the only ones there.

There was a fire burning in the hearth, although it had died down substantially. Harry threw another long into the flames. Not knowing how long they might be there, he didn't want either of them getting too cold. He realized, belatedly, that he was treating Ron much the same as Charlie had... He dismissed the thought. Ron needed a friend right then much as he had always been one.

It was time Harry returned the favor.

Settling down beside Ron, each curled up on an opposite end of the love seat directly in front of the fireplace, Harry waited. He hoped it would be Ron who broke the silence but after some time he realized it would have to be him. Hoping to distract Ron from his worry, he said, "Tell me about him."

Ron gave Harry an odd glance. His confusion was clear. "What?"

"Charlie," Harry prompted. "Tell me about him." He thought for a moment. "About the two of you. Are you close?"

Pain blossomed in Ron's eyes but Harry thought he saw the faintest smile there as well. Ron nodded. "Always have been." There was another moment's silence before Ron laughed. Actually laughed. "Charlie taught me how to fly. Well, he tried. Mum was furious."

Smiling, Harry couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

"Well, I wasn't quite seven at the time. A bit young to be going round on a broom alone, much less that old rattletrap of Charlie's. It had been his when he was younger." Ron smiled, "I loved it, though. I think he knew I would. It's why he risked Mum's wrath to let me do it. She was convinced I'd fall, break my neck."

"I'm guessing you didn't," Harry said with a grin.

"No, I fell." Ron's smile faded, becoming more wistful. "Charlie caught me. Mum never knew."

"I can't imagine," Harry said a minute or so later. "Being one of seven, I mean."

Staring into the fire, Ron nodded. "It's easy to get lost." It revealed far more about how Ron felt than anything he said the entire first year they knew one another. "But Charlie wouldn't let me get lost. I was never the oldest, or the smartest, or the funniest. I was just... me. Just kind of there."

Harry's heart broke at the thought. It was painfully obvious from time to time how Ron felt about his family, about his place in the grand scheme of things. But to hear him actually say it was another matter entirely.

"Maybe Charlie understood," Ron continued. "He didn't always work with dragons, you know. He had Bill to live up to." Sighing, Ron glanced over at Harry. "I don't know. The twins have one another, Percy has his books and Ginny has Mum." He smiled sadly. "I had... have," he corrected himself, flinching slightly at the slip, "Charlie."

Harry knew well what it was like to blend in to the point of being overlooked. Only with the Dursley's being overlooked was far preferable to having too much attention paid one's way. But, knowing what it was like at the Burrow, the Weasley's always seemed so... happy.

"He used to help me get even with Fred and George, you know. They would play terrible tricks on Ginny and me when we were younger. Mum tried to make them behave, but well, you know them. I was maybe nine when Charlie helped me brew this potion..."

Ron laughed at the memory and Harry was glad for the sound. "Perfectly harmless, of course. But it made them turn blue. Can you imagine? They're faces were literally the color of blueberries. You should've heard them screaming that morning. Mum was _furious _with the two of us. Although I think Dad found it funny."

"Blue?" Harry asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah." Ron grinned. "It was less than a month before they were supposed to start their first year here. Mum was convinced it would be the scandal to be the end of us. But it faded soon enough, just lasted long enough to give them a fright." Ron sobered a bit. "Charlie thought it only fair to get even with them, after all, they kept putting snappers in my bed."

Doing the math in his head, Harry asked, "Wouldn't Charlie have been finished with school by then? When did he move away?"

"He was. He didn't go to Romania until I was ten." After a moment, Ron added, "I was furious with him then, too. For leaving."

Harry nodded. Ron had often spoken of his brother Charlie -- who worked with dragons in Romania. It was their fourth year, during the tri-wizard tournament, before Harry had the chance to meet him. In the years he'd known Ron that was the first time Harry could recall Charlie coming home. No wonder Ron hadn't wanted him to leave.

"I hid. Had some silly idea that if he couldn't say goodbye to me, that he wouldn't leave. I didn't want him to go so far away." Smiling sadly, he added, "But he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to me. Downside was, he knew all my hiding places around the Burrow so he found me. He was late for his trouble."

"But you said goodbye?"

The fire crackled, startling them both. Looking at Harry, Ron nodded. "Eventually, yeah. That time I did. A crazy person tickled me until I laughed." He sighed, absently drawing a pattern on the couch with his fingertip. "Charlie didn't want me to be sad. He wanted everything to be okay. For me to be okay. And I wanted to be happy for him... Working with dragons had been his dream for a long time. So I let him go."

Seeing the shadows fall over Ron's eyes, Harry nudged Ron's leg with his foot. "You'll get another chance, Ron. He understands."

"I hope so," Ron whispered, looking down at his hands. The crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room.

"I hope so."

They must have fallen asleep there, because the next thing Harry knew he was being shaken awake. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose and found Hermione standing beside him. Looking around quickly, he didn't see anyone else nearby.

"Good, you're awake."

Harry spared her the obvious reply, instead looking over at where Ron lay curled into the couch. "What time is it?"

"Almost dawn," she whispered. "When you didn't come back down last night I was worried." She looked over at Ron for a long moment. "I sat with Fred, George and Ginny until they went up to bed. I know they were worried about Ron."

Turning his head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks, Harry didn't reply for a long moment. "It was a rough night," he finally admitted.

Hermione nodded. "You should probably get upstairs before everyone starts coming down here. Want me to help you with Ron?"

"Sure." Harry stood, albeit unsteadily. "Although I hate to wake him now that he's finally sleeping."

"Surely you'll both sleep better upstairs."

Pushing the memory of Ron's nightmare from his mind, Harry nodded. "You're right." He added, "And at least it's the weekend. No reason to get up any earlier than we want to!"

"Luckily for the two of you, I'd say."

Moving over beside Ron, Hermione shook his shoulder gently. "Ron?"

"Charlie?" he asked. He sat quickly, although not completely awake.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he found Hermione looking at him. "No word yet, Ron."

"Oh," he replied, leaning back against the cushions. Yawning, he looked lost. "Hermione? Time to get up already?"

Smiling softly, Hermione shook her head. "Time to go upstairs." When he looked at her, dumbfounded, her smile brightened. "It's Saturday," she reminded him.

"Oh," he repeated, but it was a much more pleased sound than before. Standing, he sighed loudly. "Thanks, Hermione," he added a second later.

Leading the way up the stairs, she nodded. "Anytime."

There was an owl sitting just inside the room when Harry woke later that morning. After stretching his arms over his head Harry reached for his glasses. A quick glance at the large grandfather clock revealed it to be just shy of noon. Another glance confirmed that the only beds still occupied were his and Ron's.

Harry shivered as he climbed out from under the warm covers. Looking more closely at the owl, he recognized it. Percy had gone to work for the Ministry shortly after graduating from Hogwarts and it was Hermes who carried the odd letter back and forth between the siblings.

There was a small roll of parchment tied to Hermes' leg and Harry petted the owl gently as he removed the letter. Hermes must have recognized Harry, for the owl didn't protest when the message was withdrawn.

It was Ron's name on the outside of the scroll and something about that struck Harry. There were three other Weasleys at Hogwarts, after all. But perhaps Hermes had already delivered letters to the twins and Ginny. Pushing the thought aside, he took the unopened letter across the room and laid it on the small table beside Ron's bed. Behind him Hermes gave a small hoot, flapped his wings, and flew from the room, his mission accomplished.

Harry had just had enough time to change out of his pajamas when he heard Ron stirring. He took a seat on his own bed and waited, looking nervously over at Ron's. He was surprised when Ron looked at him. He looked confused, a small crease between his brows.

"Harry?" Ron coughed, clearing away the sleep from his voice. "Why are you staring at me like that?" Harry didn't have to answer. He could see the moment Ron remembered. The open confusion faded into worry and Ron's eyes fell. "Charlie."

Harry gestured toward the table. "Percy sent you something."

There was trepidation on Ron's face as he looked at the scroll before gingerly picking it up. He held it for a long moment, uncertainty hanging all around him, then took a deep breath, broke the wax seal, and let it fall open in his lap.

"Ron."

Harry was startled when Ron read the greeting aloud and wondered if he should leave. Ron should probably read the letter in private, after all. He had just started to stand, not quite on his feet when Ron looked up quickly. "Don't go." Looking embarrassed at the sudden words, Ron gave him an uncertain smile. "Please?"

Harry nodded and walked over, sitting beside Ron. "Okay," he said. Ron gave him a grateful look before turning his attention back to Percy's note.

"Mum asked that I write to you. She was concerned how you would take the word of Charlie's accident. And I must admit to having worries of my own... I doubt you'll talk to the twins, but I know you'll need to talk to someone. And don't deny it, you are too much like Charlie sometimes. Frustratingly so at times."

Ron paused, the letter crinkling between fidgeting hands. "Never much thought of myself being that much like Charlie," he said a minute later.

Harry tilted his head to the side, confused. "Why not?"

"He's just so..." Ron shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. "Charlie. You know. Brave and strong and all those things girls swoon over." Harry watched as Ron's gaze remained on the paper, the letter being twisted this way and that between Ron's fingers. "I've never been like that."

Harry disagreed with Ron's assessment of himself, but kept quiet. He knew just how brave and strong Ron could be, even if the other doubted himself. In time he'd see himself the way his friends did. Harry had to believe that.

Unaware of Harry's thoughts, Ron continued. "I do hope you talk to someone. Harry perhaps. You two have always been rather inseparable. Just... don't worry too much, all right? They have good healers in Romania. Mum and Dad won't let one of us down. Remember that. Send word if you need anything, I've told Hermes to stay close by."

It was simply signed Percy. It was a side of Ron's older brother that Harry had never seen. From being around him Harry had only known Prefect Percy who was more worried about his grades than anything else. It made him realize there was more to Percy than he let on.

He was startled when Ron sighed softly. "I wonder how he's doing."

Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders and was surprised when Ron leaned into the contact rather than pulling away. "It'll be okay."

"What if it's not?" Ron persisted, his voice sounding very young.

_It has to be _Harry answered silently. Aloud he said, "It will be."

Later that day, Harry once again found himself trying to distract Ron. It wasn't an easy task. Most of the students had gone to Hogsmeade for the day and the common room was deserted. There were a handful of stragglers, though. Chief among them were the six waiting for word on Charlie.

Fred and George were off in the corner, working on some trick or another. Harry wasn't certain what, but there was the occasional muffled boom. Ginny sat with Hermione. He could hear Hermione reading to her. It was too quiet to understand what she read, but no doubt it was something educational.

Ron sat across a small table from him. Between them was his old, battered chessboard. Ron always succeeded in beating Harry at chess but it provided a distraction for him that little else did. The strategy and plotting -- as much as it seemed to flow naturally from Ron -- required him to think and pay attention. If he was paying attention to the board, to the pieces and how they fell, at least he wasn't staring at the clock.

Harry wasn't so fortunate. His chess playing skills had improved dramatically since he had met Ron. Not surprisingly, since he hadn't been able to play at all before. But they were nothing to brag about, even still. So while Ron was thinking, planning out his moves, Harry would glance at the grandfather clock.

The hour had grown late and the other students would be returning soon. Harry counted them fortunate that they had been gone at all. Glancing at Hermione, who looked at the clock and then at him, he knew she was thinking along the same lines.

He wondered, for the thousandth time, how long it would take to hear word -- any word -- about Charlie. The worry was eating at all of them, but he knew it was especially bad for Ron. Any doubt on that was squelched when he noticed Ron chewing on his nails as he contemplated his move.

Harry was moving a knight, rather absently, when he heard the portrait of the fat lady swing open. Preparing himself for the influx of Gryffindors, Harry was startled to see Professor McGonagall hurry into the room instead.

Across from him Ron stood so suddenly he upended the chessboard, but it was Hermione who spoke. "Professor?" McGonagall nodded to Hermione, but her attention was on the four Weasleys. "We've received word on your brother," she said with little fanfare. "Your parents wanted you to know that he's going to be alright."

It was George who asked, "They why didn't they tell us themselves?"

"They've chosen to remain in Romania for the time being. The four of you are to stay here and continue with classes." She spared a long glance for each of them before adding, "Your mother said they will send more news as soon as they can."

There was something unsettling about McGonagall's words. Harry wasn't certain why it felt as though she wasn't telling them everything but he pushed the feeling aside. If nothing else, the others seemed happy with the news. For the time being that was enough for Harry.

After McGonagall left, Fred clapped his hands, causing Ginny to jump. "I guess that's that, then, eh?"

"Looks like it," George agreed.

Still standing close to Hermione, Ginny said, "I still want to see him."

"Maybe he'll come home with Mum and Dad." Harry looked sharply at Ron when he answered her. There was something off about Ron's voice, but if the others noticed it, they didn't comment.

"Do you think so?" Ginny asked, hope in her voice.

"Sure, Gin," Ron replied with a shrug. "Why not?"

After that, life went on.

The weekend ended and classes started again. Harry stayed close to Ron, never quite letting him out of his sight. Whenever Ron would give him a strange look, Harry just shrugged. He could tell there was something hanging over Ron -- a cloud that never quite seemed to lift. He rarely met Harry's eyes and stayed very quiet. Too quiet for Harry's liking.

Ron seemed to pay attention in class, though Harry himself paid more attention to Ron than to the lectures. Snape called him on it on two separate occasions. He couldn't seem to help himself, there was something... off about his friend.

It was almost two weeks when word came, by Owl Post, that Ron's parents were returning to England. Apparently Bill had gone back to Egypt the week prior. There were three more notes from Percy, all addressed to Ron. Unlike the first, Ron didn't share any of them with Harry.

Harry couldn't help but notice that the closer it came to time for the Weasleys return, the more on edge Ron seemed. He wondered if Ron was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he was. Harry had to admit something still felt strange.

It had become habit, after the second week, for Ron to leave their classes quickly. He would glance back at Harry and Hermione, since they were usually near by, and then walk away from them. It was growing more unsettling as time passed.

"Do you think he knows something?" Hermione asked, as they followed Ron toward the library one afternoon. "Something we don't?"

Harry was staring all the while at Ron. "I don't know. He's just... gone quiet."

"But he talked to you, that night."

Harry nodded, shifting his books from one arm to the other. "Yeah. But hardly a word since. I've tried... I don't know what's wrong, Hermione. Just that something is."

Hermione sighed. "It's just so unlike him. Not to talk."

"I know."

Harry hadn't mentioned the first letter from Percy, the one that Ron had read aloud. He couldn't forget Percy's concern that Ron talk to someone. At the time Harry had been relieved that Ron was willing to do so. Ever since, he had only been able to watch as Ron had become more and more withdrawn.

"Do you think his parents coming home will make it better?" Hermione asked, startling Harry from his thoughts.

"I'm not sure." Glancing at Hermione, Harry saw the worry mirrored on her face. "But I'm worried. What if it isn't enough?"

Harry was waiting for Ron when he finally trudged up the stairs and into their dorm room. Trust Hermione to keep him distracted for a while, he thought. Ron must not have seen him sitting there, not quite hidden by the curtains on his bed, because he jumped when Harry spoke.

"Geez, Harry. Warn a body."

Harry's lips quirked in an almost-smile. It was the first remotely Ron thing he had heard him say since before. There was no reason to say before what. Anyone that knew Ron knew what.

He watched as Ron dumped his books on the chest at the foot of his bed. Ron's robe quickly followed. There was no doubt Ron was nervous, perhaps waiting to see if Harry would try to talk to him or simply let it be. Harry waited a few more minutes before finally breaking the fragile silence.

"How're you doing?" he asked, watching Ron's response.

Ron didn't turn to face Harry, but rather looked over his shoulder at him. He shrugged. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

Harry wanted to sigh. He'd wanted to sigh most every time he had been around Ron for weeks. His best friend could out-stubborn anyone Harry knew. "You know why," Harry answered, trying to be patient. "You've been quiet."

Ron laughed, although it was a brittle sound but he didn't reply.

Harry weighed the merits of pleading with his friend before trying again. "Ron?"

There must have been something in his voice, because Ron's shoulders sagged. "Don't, Harry."

Confused, Harry asked, "Don't what?"

"Something isn't right." Ron turned then, finally looking directly at Harry. Harry couldn't help thinking he looked old. "I don't know what, or why. Just... something isn't right."

"I know."

Ron flinched at the whispered admission and shook his head. "No, Harry. You can't fix this."

"I don't want to fix this," Harry countered. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "I just want to help"  
Again turning away, Ron busied himself pulling the curtains back from his bed. "Maybe there are some people you just can't help."

Not quite a week later Harry was surprised to see Hermes. But instead of waiting close to Ron's bed, he sat on a perch near Harry's. Taking a step nearer the owl, he saw it was his name marked on the parchment.

"What do you have there?" he asked the owl, pulling the scroll free. Harry double-checked that it was indeed his name on the side before popping the seal loose and unrolling the paper. Hermes gave a small huff and fluttered out of the room.

"Harry," it began, in Percy's slanted longhand. "I hope this finds you well, for I am in need of your assistance. In truth, it is my parents who requested that I write to you."

Harry could only wonder at the odd phrasing. Would it not be simpler for the Weaselys to write Harry directly? His question was answered as he read on.

"Errol is at the Burrow, he's quite old as you know and Hermes is more up to the challenge of delivering this to you. I've tried several times to contact Ron since we received news of Charlie's accident. He hasn't responded, so we hope that you can shed some sort of light on how he is doing..."

Harry read on, discovering that, although the twins appeared to have returned to life as usual they had contacted their parents regarding Ron's strange behavior. Harry cursed himself -- perhaps he should have done so himself. The feeling that there was something he didn't know had continued to nag at him, keeping him silent.

Hermione had distracted Ron in the common room with homework for their history class, but Harry knew he was likely to return soon. Finding a spare piece of parchment, Harry scribbled a hurried response to Percy and went to find Hedwig. Maybe they would finally get some answers after all.

Two days later there had been no response from Percy. When they left Potions, a class that had Harry on edge ever since McGonagall's first interruption, Hermione and Harry followed close behind Ron. He had yet to start walking with them again. They were no more than three steps behind Ron, but it was far enough that Ron disappeared around a corner and was out of sight for a handful of seconds.

Harry feared the worst when he heard Ron gasp. He and Hermione glanced at each other and hurried their steps. What they saw when they rounded the corner was the last thing Harry expected.

"Charlie!"

Harry stopped short, staring. Ron dropped his books, a brilliant smile on his face for the first time in weeks. He was stock-still for a moment before launching himself at a taller, red-headed man. Charlie was leaning against the wall, just to the side of the fat lady's portrait.

"Ron," Charlie replied, smiling. Charlie gave a small oof as Ron finally reached him, throwing his arms around his brother. "How've you been?" The words were barely out of Charlie's mouth before Ron leaned back, staring intently at him. Ron was silent, his smile fading.

The corner of Ron's mouth quirked and Harry could tell he was chewing on his lip. Ron stepped away, pulling his weight away from Charlie. "You're hurt." His voice was quiet, barely carrying over the hustle of students around them.

Harry looked over at Hermione, who was in turn watching the exchange with wide eyes. Standing just on the outside of what was happening, it felt eerily like the night they'd first learned of Charlie's accident. As if to mimic that night, the crowd thinned, leaving them alone in the corridor.

"I'm going to be fine," Charlie insisted with a smile. He put his hand on Ron's shoulder, shaking it slightly. "Don't you believe your own eyes?"

Ron looked suspicious and shook his head. "Not when they don't agree with something else."

"What else?" Charlie asked, sparing a glance back where Harry and Hermione stood. He then looked at his younger brother, obviously confused.

Ron looked uncertain. It was a look Harry had grown to hate on his friend's face. Ron glanced upward, seemingly at a loss for words. "I don't know." He shrugged. "Something."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Nodding, Ron looked anything but reassured. "Exactly."

Lowering his voice, Charlie's face lost any hint of humor. "You're still angry with me?"

Ron's head jerked up, staring at Charlie with bright eyes. "No!" Shaking his head jerkily from side to side, he insisted, "It's not that."

"Then what?"

There was pain on Ron's face and his hands were balled up at his sides, strangling the straps of his book bag between them. "What aren't you telling me?"

Charlie's face fell. Now that Harry looked more closely, he could see the older wizard was favoring his left side. His arm hadn't moved away from his ribs, even when Ron had wrapped his own arms around Charlie.

"Nothing," Charlie reiterated. "It's just... It's going to take time."

For the first time since seeing his brother, Ron began to look as though his guard were coming down. "Time?"

"I'll mend. Just not as quickly as I'd like."

Ron took a step closer to Charlie. Harry could see the color rushing back into Ron's hands from where he had loosened his grip on the book satchel. Ron stared at Charlie, eyes taking in every line and feature. Apparently satisfied, if only for the moment, Ron nodded. Quietly, he asked, "Promise?"

Charlie smiled. "I promise, little brother. I promise."

Harry was sitting in the library studying for an upcoming exam when a long shadow fell across the table. He looked up, expecting to find Hermione there, and was surprised to see Charlie instead.

"Charlie," he said. Worried, he dropped his quill onto the table and made to stand. "Ron"

Charlie held up a hand, the one not wrapped around his ribs. "Is fine. I wanted to speak with you."

"Me?" Harry asked, curious.

Harry had since found out that, with Dumbledore's personal permission, the older Weasley had been allowed to stay for a visit. In the short time Charlie had been visiting Hogwarts he had not strayed far from his siblings. Ron especially.

"I wanted to say thank you."

"Thank me? I didn't really do anything," Harry said. "Ron didn't want much to do with me. Or any of us, really."

To Harry's surprise, Charlie smiled. "I wouldn't have expected much different, honestly."

"Really?"

Nodding, Charlie carefully sat on the bench opposite Harry. "It's his way, Harry. Though perhaps you've been fortunate and not seen it." It did seem greatly out of character for Ron to act in such a way. Perhaps his confusion showed, for Charlie continued. "He does that, pulling away when he's scared." Charlie paused. "Truly scared, I mean. Don't get me wrong, when he's angry he's a pit bull that refuses to let go."

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. "That's the truth."

"I had hoped perhaps this time would be different." Charlie looked down, studying the wood grain of the table intently. "When I woke there with the healers... Honestly I don't remember much. Mum was there. Dad was somewhere nearby with Bill. I could hear them."

"Hear?"

Charlie nodded. "It was several days before I could see." Harry blanched. "Ron doesn't know that." Harry nodded, though perhaps too quickly, for Charlie laughed nervously. "Yet, anyway. I doubt I'll fool him for very long, he's quick."

"But now?" Harry asked. He wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer even with the proof sitting right in front of him.

Charlie stared off into space for a long moment. "Things are... blurry when I'm not too tired." Again he looked at Harry. "Worse when I am."

"You mean..."

"I won't be working with dragons again for a while. That much of what I told Ron was the truth. Just not exactly why."

Harry blinked slowly, unbelieving. He had to clear his throat before being able to speak. "What did the healers say?"

"What I told Ron, basically." Charlie smiled, looking almost relaxed. Far more relaxed than Harry felt at the moment. "I need time to rest, to heal."

Hearing Charlie speak so calmly, Harry remembered how nervous Ron had been ever since hearing Charlie would be okay. How he himself had felt off. "Why tell me?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Ron."

"Ron."

Charlie nodded. "Like I said, when I woke up only a few things were important enough to really sink in. One of the things that I couldn't let go of was Ron." He took a sharp breath, gave Harry a shaky smile and leaned a bit to the left. Harry began to stand but Charlie held out a hand. "Just a stitch in my side. It'll pass."

After another breath he continued. "Ron and I have always been close. Since he was born, really. And I still regret how things were left after my last visit home. More than that, I knew how he would react." Blinking quickly, Charlie sighed. "Our argument was unfortunate under the best of circumstances. With what happened... I knew Ron would take it even harder."

"It was difficult." Harry dropped his gaze from Charlie's open face. Hoping he wasn't revealing too much, he said, "He felt guilty."

"He's good at that," Charlie replied. "But then again, so am I." He was silent for so long that Harry looked up, worried he would stop speaking entirely. However, he finally continued. "If our situations had been reversed..." Charlie took a shaky breath. "I would never have forgiven myself for letting our disagreement get so out of hand."

"He knew you only wanted to protect him," Harry admitted in a very quiet voice. He felt the need to reassure Charlie, much as he had Ron. An odd feeling. "He did."

Charlie met Harry's gaze and Harry thought he saw thanks there. "It's all I've ever wanted. I see a lot of myself in him." Charlie managed a shaky smile. "Although ask any of our family and they might find that a bad thing. But... there's something in Ron I don't share with the others. I'm afraid it can make me... overbearing at times."

"Percy did say something, in his first letter, that you two were quite alike." There was a noise from behind them and Harry waited a minute before he said, "I'm not sure Ron believed it."

Charlie shook his head and Harry thought he looked sad. "I know."

"But?" Harry asked, voicing what Charlie did not.

"Nothing. Just... He's special, Harry. Never doubt that."

Hearing that which he already knew, Harry nodded. "I know."

"I'm glad he found you." Charlie stood, carefully pulling his robes around his body. The ordeal had caused him to lose weight, Harry noted absently. "I'm glad you found one another."

Harry smiled. "Me too."

Harry was curled up in a stuffed chair with his back to the common room, books resting in his lap. Ron sat beside him, his legs curled beneath him. Neither had spoken much since leaving class, but the silence wasn't as heavy as it had been. That alone relieved Harry but it had lasted long enough that Harry wished Hermione would get out of class and join them. Perhaps Ron would feel more inclined to talk if all three of them were there.

Instead of Hermione, though, it was Charlie who suddenly leaned over the back of Ron's chair and said hello. Both boys jumped in their seats. "What is it with you people?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between Charlie and Harry. "Always sneaking up on me."

Laughing, Charlie walked around the chairs and took one for himself. "What can I say, you make it too easy."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I do not."

Charlie winked at Harry. "Sure you do." Growing serious, Charlie said, "I'm going to be leaving soon. Mum asked me to come to the Burrow."

"Oh," Ron said, his face falling. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

Harry shifted in his seat, wondering if he should leave the brothers alone. He had just begun stacking up his books when Charlie glanced over at him and shook his head. "You don't have to leave."

"I just..." Harry faltered, looking at Ron. "Don't you want to talk in private?"

Ron looked at Charlie, then back at Harry and nodded. "You're fine, Harry." Ron waited a moment then sat back in the chair before facing Charlie. "How long will you be home?"

Harry knew, if only by how often Ron spoke of Charlie, that he had missed his older brother. He found himself hoping that Charlie would be home for a good while.

"I'm not sure yet. A while."

"Until your eyes are better?" Ron asked, studying Charlie's face. Harry knew Ron was watching for his brother's reaction.

To his credit, Charlie didn't look that surprised. Instead, he nodded and looked down for a moment. "Until then, yes." When he looked up there was the hint of a smile on his face. "I knew I couldn't keep something like that like that from you."

Ron returned his smile, but shook his head almost hesitantly. "You never could."

"I know," Charlie replied, his smile a bit brighter.

"You're really okay?"

Harry watched Charlie closely. He knew how often Ron had asked that since Charlie's arrival. He also knew that the elder Weasley had been nothing but patient with the persistent question.

"Yes, Ron." He reached over and ruffled Ron's hair. Dropping his arm to his side, Charlie looked closely at Ron for several moments. "I'm sorry I kept it from you."

Ron nodded. "It's what you do. I know that."

Charlie looked confused. "You think I keep things from you?"

"No." Ron smiled, reaching over to shake Charlie's arm gently. "You look out for me." He glanced over at Harry, an unreadable look on his face. He turned back to Charlie, saying, "I forgot for a while, but I remembered."

Charlie looked relieved, Harry noticed. Each of them had been worried about what the other was thinking but hadn't asked. Harry was relieved that they were finally telling each other what they felt.

"Will you visit?" Ron asked, when Charlie didn't reply.

"If Dumbledore will let me." He grinned as he added, "And Mum of course."

Ron nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I'm glad you're here."

Charlie squeezed Ron's hand, his smile brighter than Harry had ever seen. "So am I."

True to his word, Charlie left early the next morning. He dropped by long enough to say farewell to everyone, pulling Ron to the side for a few whispered words. Ginny watched him go, her lower lip quivering slightly.

They had classes after that, postponing any chance to talk with Ron. Harry kept an eye on him, though. He had been doing it long enough that it was a hard habit to break.

It was that night, after classes and homework were done, before Harry was finally alone with his best friend. Unsure of the reception he would receive, he approached Ron warily. "How are you doing?" he asked, still several steps away.

Ron shrugged and Harry felt a familiar frustration rise. It faded when Ron said, "Better."

Relief washed over Harry. A small start was better than none. "Good." He looked at the floor for a few seconds, then back at Ron. "You and Charlie are okay?"

"We're good." Ron dropped onto his bed, the covers ruffling slightly. He was quiet for a bit, his hands fiddling in his lap. "I know he talked to you."

"Ron, I..." Harry began to explain.

However Ron held out a hand, cutting him off. "It's okay, Harry." When Harry didn't speak, Ron continued. "I know he was worried about me."

"So was I," Harry admitted quietly.

Ron nodded. "I'm sorry for that." Ron gestured for Harry to sit down and Harry took the offered seat. Keeping his voice low, he said, "I can't explain exactly what it was like." Ron looked at Harry, and he could see how desperately Ron wanted to be able to put the feelings into words. "It was just... Wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Ever since we found out Charlie had been hurt, more so since they said he was getting better, something felt wrong." Ron ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Have you ever felt like something wasn't right, even when you knew everything was fine? At least, that's what people told you."

Nodding, Harry said, "During the tournament. When you and Hermione were at the bottom of the lake."

"Oh," Ron replied, dropping his gaze. Harry had no doubt Ron was remembering the words they had shared following the challenge. He regretted what had happened between them during that time.

"You didn't think we'd understand," Harry said -- it was a statement more than a question.

"No." Ron shook his head, looking at Harry with pleading eyes. "I am sorry for that."

"And Charlie?"

Ron sighed. "I couldn't stop worrying. And when I wasn't worrying if he was really okay, I was worried that he was still angry with me." He tried to smile, but the humor didn't reach his eyes. "I think part of me was scared he wasn't okay... That the last things I had said to him were so horrible."

"But he is," Harry interrupted. "Going to be okay, I mean."

"Yeah. I may even get to visit him again, before he goes back." Ron smiled, though his eyes were sad. "It seems like we're forever saying goodbye. I barely get him back before he has to leave again. Maybe something good will come of this, if he's at home for a while."

A few years earlier Harry wouldn't have been able to imagine what it felt like to leave someone behind and miss them when they were absent. Dudley was hardly someone worth missing. Rather it was something worth celebrating in Harry's world. But when he began attending Hogwarts, he found there were people you actually did miss when they went away. Ron and Hermione were chief among them.

Glancing at the ceiling, Ron said, "Thank you for putting up with all of this. I've not treated you much better than I did Charlie."

"I couldn't just let it slide, Ron. Couldn't just let you pull away from us," Harry said, his voice serious. "Last year, at the tournament, they weren't wrong. Even when we weren't speaking, you were still the thing I'd miss the most." He paused, taking a deep breath. "That hasn't changed."

Ron looked surprised at Harry's words. His eyes were bright for a second; then he blinked, leaving Harry to wonder if he'd truly seen it at all. "Thanks, Harry. I'm glad you're here."

Harry smiled. "So am I. And you're welcome."

Fin


End file.
